


Nobody Goes Alone

by Except_on_Tuesday



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Gavin Reed, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), Gavin Reed Whump, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Gen, Kidnapping, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-01-15 03:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21247103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Except_on_Tuesday/pseuds/Except_on_Tuesday
Summary: The DPD is determined to stop a serial kidnapper, but during the final chase a detective goes missing.





	1. Chapter 1

2AM

Connor increased his temperature again and angled the passive human nearer to himself, feeling the beat of the human’s heart echo in his own thrumming chest. Drawn by the heat, the person in his arms moved lethargically, unconsciously curling closer, hands brushed limply against the smooth skin of the exposed chest. 

At the contact, the body against him tensed and the heartbeat sped up. The dark brown head lolled back to stare into the android’s face.

“Fuu—what’s...wh-at the...PHCKIN’ HELL?!”

\--

The morning before.

“Hey! Where you goin’?”

It was going to be one of those days. Connor, with only the smallest crinkle of annoyance in the edges of his eyes, turned to give the detective his attention.

“Plast—

The trite yet hurtful insult was interrupted by a series of muffled sneezes and half-audible curses as Gavin dissolved in a fit of sneezing, burying his face in a handful of crumpled tissues.

“Good morning, Detective Reed. How’s the cold?” Connor eyed the colorful tissue box crushed nearly flat in Gavin’s hand. The detective must’ve stolen it from the front lobby. Connor couldn’t imagine Gavin actually purchasing something so eye-jarringly colorful. Gavin liked green, but not THAT green. 

“Shut th-th,” Gavin sneezed twice into his arm, “up! The f—k up! You got...” He paused as if suspicious of his own self, then when semi-confident that he wasn’t going to sneeze again he spat out the rest of his threat, “Got that?”

It was truly difficult to be intimidated by Gavin at times like this. Connor shook his head. “Not clearly. Could you please repeat yourself?”

Gavin pointed the smashed tissue box at the android. “I don’t ha-ave a—

He sneezed again and spitefully hurled the tissue box at Connor, who easily evaded the sloppy missile.

“f—in’ cold!” 

“Whatever you say, detective.” Connor hefted the evidence box against his hip and crouched to retrieve the gaudy box Gavin had chucked at his head. He held it patiently in one hand and waited for the sergeant to finish his sporadic ‘conversation.’ 

“Givin’m attitu—

Sneeze. 

Head bowed, the sergeant held out his hand and Connor handed over the tissue box which was snatched away as if it hadn’t just been handed over willingly. 

“You’re the expert on your own brand of health.” Connor shrugged and sidled past the groaning detective now slouched against the wall as he dealt with another bout of sneezing. 

“Dn’tcha walk ‘way from me!” Still with his head down, Gavin flapped a limp hand in the android’s general direction. “Jus’ wait...I-I’ll...this in’it over.” The pathetic threat drifted after the serene android.

“Has he been like that all night?” Connor asked Ben as he set the evidence box down on his desk and slid into his chair. 

“Naw.” The older man answered. “Came in early to respond to a suspicious death around four. Got it cleared by sevenish. I told him he could go home, but,” Ben shrugged, “You know how he gets. He was complaining about getting dragged out of bed, but the minute I suggest he take the day? He’s suddenly ‘fine’. Hank not come in with you?”

“No. He was still sleeping when I left. Why doesn’t he,” Connor motioned toward the source of the noises of misery, “take an OTC for his symptoms?”

“Oh, he is.” Ben held up a bottle of maximum strength, multi-symptom, starts-working-before-you-even-take-it, cold & flu medication. “But I caught him doubling doses.” He checked the time. “He’s just on the tail end of his last one. That’s why he’s miserable...er...than usual.”

Connor dug through the evidence box and pulled out a knife sealed in a labeled plastic bag. “I would think the medicine was formulated to prevent the reappearance of symptoms between doses.”

Ben nodded. “Yeah. But I wanted to make sure that he came off it okay after he overdosed himself. He was probably drinking this stuff all night.” 

Connor set the knife down on the desk and the set the box on the floor by his feet. 

A loud sneeze followed by a half-screamed roar of irritation filled the bullpen. 

“Can you please give it to him soon?” Connor rolled his coin over the back of one hand, caught it on the fingertip of his left index and balanced it there for a second before rolling it down to his palm where he flicked it back into the air. “Before he turns into...er...Mr...Jekyll?”

Ben clapped. “Hey, nice one. You reading Hank’s books?” Hank had mentioned that he was trying to get Connor involved in some little habits beyond staring at blood and bodies all day. Hank enjoyed reading ‘real’ books so he was sharing that with his partner. 

Connor smiled shyly and picked up the knife to scan it more closely, still playing with the coin in his other hand. “Yes, but the lieutenant will not let me ‘cheat’ as he calls it. And I’m only allowed to read one chapter every night. And I have to read out loud while he cleans the kitchen. It’s...an intriguing experience.”

“It’s DR. HYDE you frickin’ moron.” Gavin slammed his hands down on the desk, startling Connor in his seat. 

“He has a knife.” Ben pointed out. 

“I have a knife.” Connor echoed. 

Gavin looked disconcerted at what seemed to him a non sequitur. His eyes tracked from Ben to Connor and back again as if there was some trick or joke that he couldn’t detect. “F—

He sneezed again and slouched down into Hank’s empty chair. He rolled over to Ben’s desk and sprawled bodily over it, careless of the files and data tablets he was crushing. “Ben, gimme my crap back before I rip your f—in’ head off.” He moaned like the living dead and stretched out both hands, palm up, without raising his head from the desk’s surface. “I neeeed—

Over the station’s intercom: All units respond. Missing child.

Everyone’s phones rang out at the same time. Gavin snapped out of his annoying whine and whipped his phone out of his pocket to check the message, squinting at it through swollen and irritated eyes. 

“Not again.” Connor said as he jumped out of his chair. 

Ben snagged a rookie and shouted at Connor and Gavin as they jogged to the parking garage—Gavin shoulder checking Connor to get through the doorway first. 

“No one goes anywhere alone! You two pair up!”

“I’d rather DIE!”

“Don’t even joke about it.” Ben carried on the shouted conversation as he waved a hand at the rookie to hurry up. “Connor, stay with him!”

“Yes, Officer Collins! Gavin, slow down!”

“You keep up!”

They were determined to find this missing child alive. 


	2. Chapter 2

They tracked the kidnapper through the city. With the police surveillance drones and the cooperation of the Jericho androids, not the smaller, mistrustful splinter groups, the police managed to keep the kidnapper from ‘going to ground.’ 

But the criminal was always one step ahead. 

Now, just after sundown, with the drop in temperature came a tip that a dog-walker had seen a suspicious man entering one of Detroit’s abandoned Urban Farms. 

\--

Connor braced his feet against the floorboards of Gavin’s car as the man took another sharp corner, letting the wheel glide through his hands as he completed the turn. 

It wasn’t a safe driving habit—

“Shut up.” Gavin snarled, trying to muffle a cough in the crook of his arm and keep his eyes on the road.

“I didn’t say anything!”

Sneeze. “You were thinking it!” 

Unwilling to either incriminate himself or lie, Connor leaned forward and pointed at the huge silos rising up against the skyline. “There. Detroit Urban Farm #5. That’s where the witness saw the suspicious individual.”

“Human or android?”

“Does it matter?” Connor asked. Gavin’s prejudice was often a thoughtless habit that made an otherwise intelligent detective say, as Hank had put it once, ‘f—in’ stupid sh—t.’

“Not really, seeing how you’re the body shield either way.” Gavin chortled through another cough and wiped his eyes against his sleeve. “Hold on, tinman!” He spun the wheel again, braking and shifting gears to send the car into a neat skid around the next turn. 

Gavin’s victory whoop ended sharply when the maneuver nearly sent them through the closed gates of the Urban Farm’s North entrance. “Sh—t!” 

Connor yelped and braced his hands against the dash when the brakes slammed, jolting both detectives against their seatbelts and snapping their heads back against the seats.

“Mm.” Gavin groaned and rubbed his neck. 

Connor’s head was down and his LED flickered yellow as he refreshed the systems that had crashed. “You are going to kill us.” He muttered as he finished recalibrating his jostled systems.

“Pfft.” 

The next sound was a door opening. Cold air whipped inside, tugging at Connor’s tie and ruffling the few loose papers that still remained on the dash. 

“As a great man once said, ‘shut the f—k up and follow me!’”

When Connor looked up, Gavin was halfway over the tall, chain link gate. 

Grabbing a black beanie from the glove box and pulling it down on his head, Connor scrambled after the detective. The android scaled the fence, easily overtaking Gavin whose shoe had become stuck in one of the links. 

“And who would that ‘great man’ be?” Connor swung himself over the top and landed in a crouch, feet crunching half-frozen grass. He drew his weapon from its shoulder holster—an anonymous gift from the department’s last ‘Christmas in July’ mystery gift exchange. He scanned the darkness with narrow eyes.

The fence jangled and rattled above as Gavin navigated the top. “Dunno. Washington or Ham—Ha—aw, hell—

Sneeze.

Gavin dropped much less gracefully next to Connor, stumbling as he hit the ground.

“Hannibal?”

The sergeant shrugged off the hand on his elbow and stood up, wincing. “The f—in’ cannibal? When’d he say that?”

“I was referring to,” Connor kept his voice as a whisper, “The Carthaginian general.”

The moon provided enough light to navigate by so they left their flashlights clipped to their belts and by unspoken agreement, they headed toward the nearest greenhouse.

“The f—k you talkin’ about?”

Before Connor could explain, the sound of rustling plastic reached their ears. 

Both froze and listened. The kidnapper’s MO was suffocation via plastic bags. 

Connor gestured to the flapping strip of insulating plastic that had pulled free from one of the greenhouse’s windows. 

“I see it.” The sergeant hissed, “You might have to point out the obvious for Hank, but I’m not blind.” 

_No. _ Connor thought. _You just can’t see in the dark. _The surreptitious android casually veered into his temporary partner’s personal space, indirectly forcing Gavin to step around a half-buried rake. He got an elbow in his ribs for his trouble. 

“Stop crowdin’ me.”

Mutually annoyed with each other, they finally approached a side door to the greenhouse. 

Connor pressed his back against the greenhouse wall and nodded at Gavin who tested the door. Gavin pushed the door open and swept his gaze through the interior before beckoning for Connor to follow. 

He flicked a vertical hand to the left indicating the direction the android should take.

Connor sent an update of their position to Ben. Hank was on the other side of the city tracking down another tip that had come in simultaneously with the UFD tip. 

\--

“Lieutenant’s on scene.” Ben’s rookie said seeing the old car pull up at the west gate.

The ‘clanck’ of a car door and the appearance of the grey-haired man confirmed the rookie’s announcement. 

“Ben! That other tip was a bust. He’s gotta be here.” Hank called out, pointing over at the fence and the farmland beyond it. “This place is f—in’ huge. How many units we got covering the perimeter?”

“Six so far; I’ve got a team on each gate.” Ben checked his phone when it ‘dinged’ at him. “Tryin’ to get a 10-72 with search lights, but the only heli available is tied up with a chase out on the interstate.”

Hank glared out at the fields. “Yeah. I wish we had funding for a K-9 unit; like that one in LA.” He looked at the giant lighting fixtures scattered throughout the farmland. “Can we get those stadium lights on?” He gestured at the eerie black arms rising from the ground. 

“Got a tech in the fuse box, but he’s not hopeful.” Ben answered the frustrated officer. “Sorry. We’re setting spotlights up on the cars; it’s the best we can do for now.”

Hank checked his gun. “Best hasn’t been good enough. We gotta be better. This guy’s not getting away this time.” He muttered as he pulled out his cell to send Connor a text…but he thought twice and returned the phone to his pocket without sending the message. 

“Connor on scene?” He asked. Fearing for one android’s—Connor’s—safety while coordinating a manhunt for a dangerous criminal would cloud his judgement and endanger lives. 

Ben nodded and held up his cell, “Just got a 10-20 from him. Says he’s with Gavin on the North side, sweeping through the greenhouses and heading toward the sector offices, center field.”

“Who paired him up with Gavin?” Reed was not as bad as he’d once been, but that wasn’t saying much. “That your doin’ Ben?”

The older cop shrugged and gave the rookie a set of instructions regarding the spotlights. “He keeps him in line.” He said to Hank. 

Hank growled, but there was nothing he could do about it now. “Alright. Make sure we have back up units watching the gates; I don’t want this guy slippin’ away.”

_Connor, you’d better be careful._

\--

“Detective?”

Gavin rolled his eyes hard enough to make them water. Connor only called him ‘detective’ if the kid was trying to soften him up before saying something the android knew would set him off. “Save it.” He snapped. Irritation already stirring. Or was that a—

He buried his face in his arms, smothering the sneeze.

“But—

“F—k off.” 

Connor chewed his lip and scanned the dark building again as he followed the sergeant deeper inside. All day, Gavin had been facetious almost to the point of offensiveness considering the nature of the kidnapper’s crimes, but since their arrival he’d become churlish and uncooperative toward Connor.

The keen-eyed android had not missed the fact that Gavin was limping slightly on his left leg, giving his usual cat-like steps a heavier tread. 

_He must’ve hurt himself when he jumped from the fence. _

Judging by his stiff movements, he was already experiencing some level of pain. A sprain on top of a cold would explain his increasingly foul mood, but if the sergeant was hiding an injury, it could endanger them both. 

Connor partitioned off resources for a scan. Just a quick one. Gavin wouldn’t—

“Don’t you dare f—kin’ scan me.”

The android nearly stamped in frustration. _I should have said something as soon as I saw him land badly._

But mentioning it now would only aggravate the man’s short temper and THAT would be a problem—need for stealth or not, Gavin would flare up if provoked and risk the entire operation. 

The tempest of passion and energy with which Gavin threw himself into his cases, the ones he cared about, was infectious and exhilarating, but Connor couldn’t help but wish for Hank’s nonchalant experience at times like this. 

But then again, Hank would have made him remain by the car or in the back lines with the rookies. A recent development of protectiveness that Connor wasn’t sure he appreciated while on the job.

_I might not have the actual years of experience, but I’m just as good a de—what Gavin?_

With an impatient flurry of aggravated traffic-cop-during-rush-hour gestures, Gavin was trying to get Connor’s attention with one arm while pointing to a stain on the ground. Wordlessly asking for an ID on the substance. 

Connor knelt next to the puddle of liquid and dabbed his fingers in it. He shook his head once the analysis report completed.

“Just oil.” He whispered while Gavin carefully cleared his throat. 

Footsteps rattled on a catwalk overhead.

The two detectives crouched low; weapons in hand. Connor’s keen auditory receptors identified the noises. He held up two fingers and signed: Suspect. Child.

He pointed up to the catwalk. 

Gavin rolled his eyes: Duh. Rubbing the back of a cold hand over his eyes to clear them, the detective craned his neck up to see if he could get a visual for himself. 

Yeah. It was dark up there, but he could make out a larger form holding onto a smaller one. It looked like the man was swaying and holding his head with one hand; his dark form periodically blocked the moonlight streaming through one of the high windows.

_D—m. _Gavin swore. _Is he high on ‘ice’? _Nothing about the previous kidnappings had indicated that their suspect was a ‘junkie,’ but...

A tap on his arm drew his attention back to the android who was signaling out a simple but effective plan. Gavin shrugged and gave the ‘ok’ sign. The kidnapper had already killed five others. Any delay would only lessen their chances of saving this one. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the kid’s best chance.

They separated; Gavin taking the left stairs and Connor going for the right.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Warnings for Chapter 3 in end notes

“DPD. Freeze.” 

Obviously caught by surprise, the kidnapper spun around to face Connor. “F—in’ cop!” He gripped the child closer to himself. 

Connor rapidly scanned the captive child for injuries. Tape crisscrossed over her mouth kept her silent, but her teary eyes conveyed pleas for help.

Seeing that she was badly frightened but unharmed, Connor reassured her with a nod, but kept his attention and his gun on the kidnapper. “It’s over.” He said, scanning the man’s features and adding them to his database for later upload to the DPD criminal database. He could process immediate events much faster without maintaining the constant link to the network.

He was always surprised at how plain criminals appeared—no visual clues to indicate the sort of horror they caused. This thin man with wispy blond hair did not seem the sort of man who stole children and murdered them in cold blood, but evidence was evidence.

“Please release the child and put your hands above your head.”

The suspect sneered and turned to run but halted at the sight of Gavin blocking the other exit. “’s’up?” The detective greeted from around his S&W.

The kidnapper held the child against his chest as a shield. “You won’t shoot while I have the brat! You’re a cop!” 

“Robo-valentino over there can hit a dime on a dog’s nose.” Gavin paused to clear his throat and shook away a sneeze creeping up on him.

“Not on a dog.” Connor corrected with a tiny furrow between the brows. 

Gavin glared.

“But I’d be happy to give you a…uh…personal demonstration…um…on your nose.” 

“Admission fee, one dumb move.” Narrow-eyed, Gavin took another step forward. “I’m not f—in’ kiddin’, man, just let the kid go.”

The kidnapper’s eye shifted rapidly. He leaned toward the railing.

“Don’t move!” Both police shouted; voices strained.

The kidnapper stilled, now facing Connor. 

Under the black beanie, the android’s LED was solid red as he ran countless preconstructions of every possible outcome, adding new outcomes with each new variable of each passing second. Calculating the suspect’s stress levels, the kid’s reactions, Gavin’s slight distraction with his cold and injured leg, the potential instability of the unmaintained catwalk. 

Gavin closed in with silent steps. 

Connor’s preconstructions updated. _Risky, but good plan, Gavin. Don’t rush it._

“No sense in making things worse.” Connor, cooperating with his partner, kept the man’s attention on himself. He could have easily placed a bullet in the kidnapper’s head, but he did not want to add a bloodbath to the already, undoubtedly, traumatized child’s future nightmares. 

And then there was Gavin. Connor was confident in his aim, but if there was a bullet looking for a landing, Gavin caught it. During the fallout from a failed negotiation, a bullet that had grazed Connor’s neck had ended by slamming into Gavin’s thigh.

The man had been across the street monitoring and relaying situation updates on his phone. Like he’d been told. Standing exactly where Hank had ordered him to stand. 

Yeah. 

It didn’t help that the reporters on scene ran the story on the assumption that the sergeant had been ‘playing on his phone’ during a ‘shootout’ in which the DPD’s ‘prize android negotiator’ had been ‘damaged.’ 

The public thought it was hilarious—until certain parties made it known that THEY did not appreciate the slurs made against two of their own who’d been injured in the line of duty. 

With that data, Connor considered himself justified in his already strong reluctance to shoot unless it was absolutely necessary. 

Prototype, state-of-the-art detective androids were not frightened by gunfire. 

\--

Gavin looked relaxed, but he was primed, ready to do what needed to be done to keep the kid safe. He wasn’t the best shot, but even he couldn’t miss at this range. A cough built up in his lungs, aggravated by the cold, drafty building. He swallowed and continued toward the kidnapper, careful not to shake the catwalk underfoot despite the agony in his knee. 

At least the kidnapper didn’t appear to have any weapons on him.

_He knew we were closing in. Why wouldn’t he be armed?_

Some criminals operated without weapons for the sake of a lighter sentence, but the majority did not plan for failure. Gavin dismissed the thought. _Stay focused._ He tightened his grip on his weapon and closed the distance. This should be easy. He jumped rookies—and sometimes Connor—all the time at the station during slow days.

Almost—

The kidnapper spun and threw the child over the rail. 

Connor vaulted over the railing; tackled the child midair, curled around her. 

“Holy—fu—CONNOR!”

Two bodies slammed into the unforgiving concrete floor far below.

\--

The metallic rattling of the catwalk registered as bodiless noise in Gavin’s racing mind. Cursing nonstop, the detective fumbled the flashlight off his belt. He had to know now. He didn’t want the burden of hope.

The meaty, water-balloon sound was never wrong. 

_Dead. _

He sent the shuddering beam down to the motionless forms. _Dead. _He didn’t want hope. 

Didn’t want to hope that this time he’d hadn’t screwed up. 

The circle of light illuminated the dark stains surrounding the motionless bodies. 

_Pools of red and blue mixing with burning gasoline._

The flashlight plummeted, spun once in the air and burst against the ground. 

_Circuitry and smeared brains. _

Desperate to kill the emergent flashback, Gavin raked his palm over an exposed bolt in the railing. The pain chased away the memory and left him cold and alone, but in the present. 

_Dead._

He cleared his throat and ducked his head, swallowing bile, as he stared down into the dark. 

_Can’t be sick at a crime scene, Gavin, you want to screw things up even more?_

A red glow created shadows across the black floor. 

Gavin squinted. His exhausted eyes widened. He’d know that particular red anywhere.

“F—in’ bloody—ARE YOU ALIVE?!” Gavin was petrified with shock and disgustingly fluttery hope. 

“That’s the question...isn’t it?” Connor’s weary voice floated up from the darkness.

\--

Connor wasn’t sure how a non-android with a leg injury made it to the ground level so quickly. 

_It’s not a competition, Gavin. _He thought. But he was grateful that the human managed it so quickly. The android wasn’t sure how bad his own injuries were nor did he know if the child had survived. He’d tried to shield her from the hard concrete with his comparatively softer polymer frame, but it’d still been a hard landing. 

Error messages finally came pouring in too fast to register.

He wasn’t even sure if he was in one piece. 

_Shouldn’t I be more...scared? How damaged am I?_

He closed his eyes, but couldn’t shut out the errors streaming through his head, making it difficult to process data clearly. _It’s late. I wish I was at the house with Hank and Sumo...it’s not so cold there...oh...hi Gavin you look....I dunno...my social module seems to be offline. _

In a two-step flurry that might have been comical under different circumstances, Gavin seemed undecided upon which responsibility needed his attention first. 

_You’re silly. Help the girl._

The indecision lasted only a few seconds. Gavin crouched next to the kid.

“How’s she?” Connor choked on the thirium building up in his throat. _Probably shouldn’t have dismissed THAT notification. _

“Unconscious.” Gavin murmured as pulled the tape away from the girl’s face. 

“Sh—t. I shoulda been faster.” Connor managed to roll onto his side to let the fluid drain from his mouth.

“Faster than what, tinman?” Gavin continued to assess the kid’s condition using the flashlight app on his phone—it drained battery so he was working as quickly as possible. “You’re probably the fastest friggin’ thing within two miles.”

“Only two?” Connor blinked slowly. 

“Pfft. My car?” Gavin sighed and coughed. “She’s okay. I think. Breathing’s okay and heartbeat is good.”

“That’s...good.” The android did not feel anything attached to the words. _I shoulda been faster. Stopped her from falling. It was preconstruction #5008. I knew it could happen, but I waited. Preconstruction #2 seemed so much more likely based on the data from the crime scenes._

“Gavin.” A shudder ran through Connor’s frame. “Where’d you learn to drive like that?”

“Like what.” The phone light swung around to land on Connor. Gavin looked away quickly from the sight of the blue blood. “Hey, you...you’re not dying over there are you?”

“’m fine. Just minor...minor damage. My self-repair is already working on it.”

_I don’t want to talk about how broken I am. Can’t you understand that?_

Gavin carefully wrapped the girl in his jacket, reluctant to move her in case of an unknown spinal or neck injury and then turned to the android that had yet to stand or sit up. “...Ben.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He wasn’t always old, fat, an’ dumb. What’s with the questions, random-robo? You sure you’re good or what?”

“Repairs recalibrating.” Connor slurred. “Talking helps processor functions...” A little lie. The injured android wasn’t sure if talking would do anything other than put additional stress on his systems, but...

_It helps something._

“Concrete’s f—in’ hard ain’t it.”

_Not helpful, Gavin. _“Don’t be a jerk when I’m...suboptimal.”

“Funny word. What’s it mean?”

“I dunno...my online dictionary is offline. Don’t LAUGH.”

Gavin continued to snigger as he rubbed his hands over his arms, cold without his jacket. He paced around trying to keep warm in the falling temperatures. As he paced, though, he drew closer to Connor. 

“Did you inform the others of our situation?”

“...yeah. Of course.” Gavin forced himself to take a better look at the crumpled android.

“When?”

“Oh, sometime while you were falling to your death—WHEN THE HELL YOU THINK?!” 

“Please stop screaming.”

Gavin muttered as he knelt next to the android and tentatively prodded at his shoulder. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” Connor blinked rapidly as more calibrations logged.

Gavin watched the LED continue to flash red. He supposed it was because of whatever repairs Connor was doing on himself. _I mean, he’s prefect cop, so it’s not like _he’d _lie about something like an injury in the field. _“You’re an idiot.” 

Connor hissed as the repair program shifted something in his abdomen. “I wasn’t going to just stand there and let her fall.”

_Like you did._

Gavin froze and stood up, twisting a cracked thumbnail into the open wound on his hand. “Oh, yeah? Well, phck that, I’m not just gonna ‘stand’ here then.”

Connor struggled to lift himself from the ground. “You can’t just—he’s probably long gone!”

“The hell you talking about?” Gavin turned, a hand on the exit door. His usual scowl was a mere frown. But Connor couldn’t see it through the errors. 

“I’m just going to flag down Ben. Ol’ man’s so senile he’s probably lost. You just...whatever. Be 'fine' here.”

The half-open door slammed shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Warnings for Chapter 3:  
Referenced/implied PTSD (?)  
Referenced/implied self-harm (?)  
Child endangerment


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional warnings in end notes

Gavin slouched against the wall and rubbed his hands together; numb enough to forget about the open wound in his hand.

He wouldn’t leave the kid or Connor alone for long. Their safety was on his incompetent shoulders. He stifled a dry cough. _At least I’m not sneezing anymore. Hoo-f—in’-ray._

While the cold nipped away the sharper edges of his anger, he idly checked his phone for updates on the manhunt, wincing against the screen’s brightness.

Ben’s affirmative [on the way] shone up at him.

[????!!ETA!???!] Gavin sent the message with an abrupt swipe.

His phone lit up again.

[Comin’ up from South. 10 mins]

Gavin strode around to the greenhouse's south corner and blinked until his eyes readjusted to the darkness. He could make out the police and EMS lights in the distance.

[Yeh. See you. Keep current heading]

Favoring his aching leg, the sergeant moseyed back around the greenhouse, picking at the drying blood on his hand and watching his footing. Last thing he wanted to add to his embarrassing night was a broken ankle. He sighed and rolled his shoulders to loosen the painful tension knot that had formed in the last...what?...five minutes?

_Heello, what’s that? _ Head on side, he blinked at a small, square glow of light on the ground some distance away.

A cell.

He straightened up and stopped rubbing his neck. Interested.

It was only a few meters away. Hardly even that. He looked at the greenhouse’s side door he’d been about to open. _Meh. Just take a second._

With a small shrug and honed in on the device, the detective jogged over to investigate, quickly crossing the short distance without mishap.

_Maybe the kidnapper dropped it when he ran. _

Gavin pulled a glove from his back pocket and picked up the device and thumbed through the recent messages. _Moron didn’t even lock his phone._

All snark evaporated when he read the messages.

[I have kid. Meet you at UFD N greenhouse]

[I’ll be there]

_Well sh—t. There’s an accomplice...._Gavin lost his thought for a moment while his trained mind slotted the new information into his recollection of the case details...

Then he realized: _This is their meeting spot!_

Someone involved in the kidnapping and deaths of five children was coming to this location.

Connor was defenseless. _I have to tell Ben!_

Plastic rustled loud in the night. Nerves strung tight, Gavin startled at the sound—instinctively shifting into a fighting stance and drawing his gun.

As his pupils dilated, returning a degree of night vision, the abandoned farm’s desolate expansiveness and inanimate farming implements revealed themselves again.

Annoyed, he glared at the greenhouse’s loose plastic. Expecting to see it flapping.

It wasn’t moving.

Unbeknownst to Gavin, a tall and broad shape detached from one of the nearby tractors. It had watched the detective leave the relative security of the greenhouse. It had smiled as Gavin unwittingly came closer.

Now, silent like a spider racing toward the fly but as solid as a wrecking ball, the juggernaut hurtled toward the detective. The muscled figure slammed into the distracted cop, snapping back his head with the force of the impact, driving him to the ground and pinning him.

\--

Pain shot through Gavin’s neck and back. His gun was lost somewhere in the dark. Half-conscious and winded but responding to the threat, he thrust out his hands to push away the weight crushing his ribcage.

A hand reached toward his face.

Gavin turned his head away and forced his abused lungs to pull in the air needed to shout to the approaching cops; he could see the gleam from their flashlights reflecting off the building’s windows.

“HE—

A wad of plastic bags was forced between his teeth, filling his mouth with the foul taste of plastic and choking him. He instantly tried to remove it, but his hands were punched aside and pinned under a knee. Thick tape wrapped twice around his mouth, his entire head, pulling against his skin and hair. A rough hand smoothed it down—sealing the vile gag.

Silenced.

With a looming horror that grew with the lack of air, Gavin struggled against the weight straddling his chest; ripping his hands free he clawed at the tape. An enormous hand caught the detective’s wrists and pinned them to the ground at his side. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” the attacker tutted and leaned close, staring into the wide, green eyes. He spoke in a low throaty growl; breath hot against cold skin. “You feisty little cop.”

Lungs starved for air, Gavin bucked and twisted, trying to free his hands from the murderer’s grip. The shriek of more tape being pulled from its roll reached through the haze fogging Gavin’s thoughts. Sticky tape, warm from the killer’s grasp, circled his wrists.

Voices coming nearer.

“Yeah. That’s the one. Gavin and Connor should be here.”

BEN!

Gavin’s muffled cries were loud in his head, but barely reached beyond the killer’s ears.

“Hush, little cop.” The killer whispered, sinking down like a shadow and spreading himself flat over his prisoner to conceal the thrashing movements from the approaching police.

The lights shone here and there, sweeping the surroundings like dutiful cops, but their main focus was on the greenhouse and the wounded within.

Whenever the lights flicked away, the murderer rose into a crouch and dragged the weakly struggling detective away from the search team. “Don’t say a word.” He murmured.

The captive was growing quieter. The tense resistance slackened.

As if knowing when the lights would flick back, the killer would sink back down scant seconds before the lights swept in his direction.

Another minute and the greenhouse’s far wall concealed the killer and his victim.

The lights from Ben’s team flashed over the ground where Gavin had lain only moments before. Unaware of the hulking figure lurking in the dark just around the corner, they disappeared inside the greenhouse leaving the field dark.

Satisfied he was undetected, the killer hefted the limp body over his shoulder. “Six for hell.” He grinned in the sinking moon’s yellow light. 

\--

Connor waved tiredly when the EMS, Ben and his team arrived at the greenhouse. By propping himself up on his arms, the android was barely able to sit up. “She’s over there.” He pointed with a shaking hand at the little form wrapped in Gavin’s jacket. The EMTs swarmed over to the child.

The android dropped his hand back to the floor to support his weight.

“Did you see Gavin out there?” He asked as Ben knelt next to him. “He won’t answer my texts.”

Ben frowned at the extent of the android’s injuries. “No. But I was just texting him about five or six minutes ago. He might be kicking around outside.” 

Before Connor could voice the concern Ben knew was bubbling inside the sensitive android, he waved at one of the officers who’d accompanied his team. “Hey, Carter? Take Johnson and see if Gavin’s around outside.”

“On it.” Carter said with a smart nod that nearly sent her cap flying off her head.

Then for good measure Ben sent a text of his own to Gavin: [What’s your 20?]

That done he redirected his attention on Connor. “Okay, let’s get a look at you.” Ben said, tucking his phone into his pocket, and checked the android. The older detective was something of an amateur android technician—nothing specialized, but he’d learned enough to know how to ‘check under the hood’ and patch them up until an expert could take over. “You’ve lost a lot of fluids and a bit of thirium.”

Connor splayed his hands out on the floor for balance and let his head droop back. Ben’s hand went around his shoulders to support him. It looked like the kid was about to sprawl out onto the floor.

“Whoa, whoa, kid. Stay with me here. Do you need to lie down?"

“No.” Connor traced a finger through the liquid streaked on the floor by his hand. “Most of the fluids are only a byproduct of self-repair—

“You’re running a self-repair in the field?” Ben exclaimed. “You know that’s dangerous!”

He softened his voice when the android averted his head; either to hide ashamed or—more probable—rebellious eyes. “You know it puts too much stress on your systems to run that program without a ready access to supplementary thirium, fluids, and, and...that other thing.”

“It was an emergency.” Connor murmured; voice taunt as he remembered jumping after the falling child and Gavin’s ensuing panic—he hid it well, but Connor knew the sergeant’s ‘tells’. He wanted to be a useful partner to the other detective not just the ‘pretty fancy team gizmo.’

“We lost track of the suspect...I was damaged. I didn’t want to leave Gavin on his own...”

“Okay, okay, bud.” Ben gently patted the wounded android’s shoulder. “But remember, despite his bullsh—t, he is your superior officer.”

“Not that superior.” Connor muttered, picking at a seam in the floor.

“And.” Ben continued with a gentle tap on the android’s head. “It’s HIS job to look after YOU.”

Something like anger or frustration shifted Connor’s kind features. He looked as if he would say something, but bit it back.

Judging by the mess of biocomponent and internal fluids pooling on the floor, the self-repair program had been extensive. Ben sat back on his heels. The kid was probably low on power and thirium. According to Hank, that combination made Connor ‘cranky as hell.’

“Child has a minor concussion.” The medic said upon completing his assessment. “We’re going to take her out of here. Does he,” the medic gestured at the slouched android, “need anything? I’m gonna have them bring up an ambulance.”

“Whaddya say?” Ben prompted when Connor didn’t answer.

“Thank you.” The drained android detective murmured, his yellow LED proving his absent mind.

Ben gave the android a tight smile and then said to the waiting medic, “A pint of thirium and one of those android kits—the RK one if possible. We’ve got a few in the patrol cars. And I know Lieutenant Anderson has one in his car.”

The medic was already on his radio. “Sounds good.”

Ben checked his phone when the ‘group’ message came through: [Suspect in custody]

“Hey, they got him.” 

Connor heaved a sigh of relief. The idea of a suspect, which he should have apprehended, being on the loose had weighed on him. He reached out a hand, nearly falling over. “Hand me Gavin’s jacket, please? I’d like to make sure he gets it back so we don’t have a repeat of last week.”

With a shake of his head, Ben retrieved the jacket that had been exchanged for a shock blanket. “No indeed we do not.”

Ben’s phone buzzed at him: [with suspect]

“That’s Gavin.” He said to the lethargic android watching him. “Guess he’s helping Hank’s team with criminal transport.”

Before Connor could speak, Carter popped her head back into the building. “Didn’t see Detective Reed, but Paulson he said he saw the sergeant earlier.”

“Okay.” Ben waved. “We just heard from him. Thanks.”

Connor figured that Gavin was still stewing over whatever perceived insult he’d felt during their last exchange.

\--

Surrounded by aggressive and stone faced cops, the thin blond man snarled through blackening eyes and bleeding lips. “F—ing cops. I’ll sue you for brutality.”

Wordless, Chen shoved the kidnapper into the back of the patrol car and slammed the door. “Johnson. You’re good.” She smacked the car and stepped back and stared down Chris’ attempt at a ‘high five.’

“C’mon, Miller.” She said, walking past him to their patrol car. “We got a 10-16 down on 5th.”

\--

Back at the main lot that was being used as a temporary command center, Connor sat on the hood of one of the patrol cars folding and refolding an empty thirium packet while Ben gave him an infusion of component fluids from a collapsible IV unit from one of the RK field kits.

They were waiting for Hank to finish giving final orders to the last few cops. A few minutes later Hank strode over. “Hey you two.” He greeted, shoulders square, vigor in his steps. 

Ben grinned. Hank thrived in this job when his head was on straight.

“Hey, lieutenant.” Connor muttered. He rolled the thirium packet into a tube and sent another text to Gavin—the third one in the last fifteen minutes: [I have your jacket. Where are you?]

Aware of Connor’s penchant for moodiness, Hank raised his eyebrows at Ben who shrugged. “Had a hard time. Little accide—

“What happened?”

“I’ll put it in a report.” Connor said finally looking up. “Do you want it now?”

“Ah, no, kid.” Hank regretted his harsh tone. “You look like sh—t. Let’s just get back to the house and rest up.”

Connor was silent as he read a message from Gavin: [Went home. Not feeling well. Meet me tomorrow?]

He formulated a response and followed Hank to the car. Preoccupied, he slunk inside while his partner closed the door for him.

[Are you okay?]

“Glad that’s finally over.” Hank said as they pulled out of the lot and circled around to the north exit so they could get right onto the highway instead of weaving through a bunch of neighborhoods.

[I’m fine. See you tomorrow?]

Connor was staring out the window at the various city lights, timing their flicker rate.

It was nice to have a pleasant conversation instead of some tersely worded work text.

Pleasant conversation?

Gavin?

“STOP!”

The car jerked to a halt. “F—k! What!?” Hank shouted, one hand going for his gun and the other reaching for Connor to push the kid down to the seat. Memories of red ice retribution hits flooding his mind. He was already hearing glass shatter and the metallic sound of bullets digging into the sides of the car.

Too focused on his own worries to pay attention to Hank’s stress levels, Connor didn’t answer. He was reviewing the recent messages and comparing them to his past communications with Gavin.

Last week: [Hi Gavin! Getting Hank coffee; would you like something?] No reply

Five days ago: [Gavin. Fowler wants you in a meeting ASAP] Reply: [F—k that]

Two days ago: [Power is spotty in evidence room again. Be careful if you go down there.]

Reply: [!!!!!!!!!!!!!!THE F—IN HELL IS WRONG WITH THIS PLACE!?????????????]

Connor closed out the message history. “Hank, can you pull around to the North Gate? I want to check something.”

Hank’s hands were white knuckled on the steering wheel. He noted the kid’s red LED, but...“Connor. You don’t get to give me a f—ing heart attack and then ask for favors. The hell is going on?”

“I think Gavin’s in trouble.”

“He’s al—

“I’m serious.” Connor stamped his foot. “Something is wrong.”

“How do you know?”

“We’re texting.”

“And?”

“It’s not Gavin. Someone has his phone.”

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional warnings for chapter 4:  
Assault


	5. Chapter 5

Directed by Connor, Hank drove to the Urban Farm’s north gate.

The impatient deviant, body pressed against the door, bounced in the passenger seat and drummed his fingers against the door handle. _If Gavin’s car is still here..._

As the car made the final turn the headlights swept over the lot, illuminating the twin black skid marks leading to a lone car.

There was a clatter, then a snapping crack when the android forced the door, heedless of the new locks Hank had installed days before—luckily for the impulsive android, Hank slammed to a stop when he heard the first rattle of the handle.

Ignoring Hank’s shout to be careful, Connor sprinted to the sergeant’s vehicle. He circled the car twice as if performing a ritual or a magician’s trick intended to make Gavin reappear, but Hank knew his partner was scanning for evidence.

“Dispatch, this is Lieutenant Anderson.”

Connor spun and listened, head cocked to the side, while Hank called dispatch.

“Dispatch to Anderson, 10-2 go ahead.”

“Can I get a 10-66 on D69-dash-0?”

“10-4, standby.”

“Standby? Gavin doesn’t have time for ‘standby’!” Connor gestured at the dark fields. “We don’t need a welfare check at his apartment. We have to search here!”

Hank held up the hand that wasn’t busy with the radio. “We will, but—

The android flung his arms wide. “What happened to ‘go after ‘em’?”

Earlier, Connor had put on Gavin’s jacket as a means of freeing his hands without risking losing the detective’s jacket; between that and the growing impatience, Hank almost couldn’t believe this was his partner who tended toward implosion under stress rather than explosions of temper.

“What the hell!” Hank reacted to Connor’s frustration with his own. “You’re always on my back about following procedure!”

Connor’s entire body was tense; he balanced on the balls of his feet, yearning to begin the hunt but held back by strained obedience. “Not when I,” he pointed to himself, “need something done!”

As annoying as protocol was, Hank knew it served a purpose in an emergency. And this was rapidly turning into one. He shook his head. _I can’t believe I’m saying this. _“Connor, you’re being too—

“I am NOT! An officer is missing and someone’s impersonating him!”

“Maybe he just lost his phone and some idiot is f—ing with you. Are they still communicating with you?”

“No. They stopped.” Connor’s voice dropped low.

Dispatch interrupted to report that a unit was en route to Reed’s apartment, adding, “And no one’s seen him at HQ either, boss.”

“Ok—

“You don’t care because it’s Gavin!”

“Shut the f—k up!” Hank’s roar echoed off the abandoned buildings.

The android’s eyes went wide, but then narrowed as his jawline stiffened into sharp angles shadowed by the light from his LED.

“Aw, hell, Connor...” Hank groaned. “I...” His professional pride had flared against the allegation that he was biased against Reed. _Just because I don’t like the guy doesn’t mean I don’t care if he’s missing. It’s just...there’s no sense in panickin’._

Dispatch broke in over the radio. “Dispatching Unit 975 to your location. Will send others as available.”

“Thanks.” Hank murmured and tossed the radio into the car. “Listen, as soon as Chris and Chen get here, we’ll start lookin’, okay?”

“Whatever you say, lieutenant.”

\--

Unit 975 returned in less than ten minutes. Miller’s good natured face was serious and even though Chen’s face was impassive, her eyes darted from Hank to Connor and then to the farm. Her feet pointed toward the expanse. “What other units do you have looking?” She tucked her hands inside her coat pockets; the temperature had dropped another degree.

“Uh, just you two so far; everyone else is already neck deep in a backlog of calls.” Hank explained. “I’ve got three other cars arriving in about fifteen minutes.”

Chen’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Any idea where to start looking?”

Hank nodded. “Yeah, we’re gonna track Reed’s phone and go from there.”

Connor had a displeased frown when he spoke to Chen. “Whoever has Gavin’s phone most likely dumped it already. We should go back to the north greenhouse and start the search from there.”

Hank crossed his arms. “We will, after we check the phone lead.” Not for the first time, Hank wished Connor had an official rank. The android had him at a disadvantage when he started the whole: ‘call-you-by-your-rank-because-I’m-mad-because-I-didn’t-get-my-way’ thing. 

“Stick together.” Hank cautioned. “If this person who has Reed’s phone is dangerous and hanging around, I don’t want anyone getting caught by surprise.”

Connor hunched his shoulders and didn’t answer.

\--

As the search party followed the GPS signal, Connor’s processing abilities clustered: _No time, Gavin’s in danger, Hank’s wrong, North Greenhouse, running out of time! Go before it’s too late!_

He didn’t want to disobey Hank, but the data cluster grew more desperate with each passing minute.

_The temperature is dropping. Gavin’s in danger. Hank doesn’t care._

As soon as Hank’s back was turned, the android dropped to the back of the little group and separated. The search party was focused on the missing man, not their group’s most responsible member who would never think of disobeying the lieutenant or of separating from his partner and friend.

\--

The North Greenhouse loomed up out of the darkness as Connor approached it. Without worrying about humans, he’d been able to cover the distance in less time than when he and Gavin had explored the area.

_I wish there were more androids on the force. Androids are much more efficient for S&R tasks like this._

Not many of the original police androids had remained after the revolution—choosing instead to form security patrols for Jericho and the smaller android communities scattered throughout Detroit.

Connor couldn’t blame them. Pushing aside his ruminations for the moment and directing the energy to his scene analysis programs, he surveyed the area around the greenhouse’s side door; the last place he’d seen the detective. To avoid using more energy than necessary, he switched on his flashlight.

It revealed splattered drops of blood on the concrete slab. Kneeling, Connor scratched off a sample of the dried substance and dabbed the flakes against his tongue. It was Gavin’s blood.

The android’s brow furrowed. The sporadic droplets and the sergeant’s barely discernable boot prints led to the building’s south corner and then retraced down the north side. Halfway there, Gavin had made a tangent into the field.

Connor found the gun first. Trapping his reaction behind a firewall, the android picked up the weapon and checked the chamber and clip. It hadn’t been fired.

_Of course not. I would have heard it._

Tucking the weapon into his waistband, rolling his eyes at Gavin’s voice in his head telling him how stupid it was to carry a gun like that.

Next, he found the torn ground and furrows made by desperate thrashing.

Another set of footsteps. Large. Deep. Gavin’s smaller prints disappeared. The large indentations grew deeper and lead away from the greenhouse.

\--

Connor was bad at communicating while on a case, but now he was also indignant at Hank’s apparent lack of concern for the sergeant. “He’ll just tell me to wait.” Connor muttered as he moved further away, pulling the heavy jacket around himself, sinking into its warm folds as he scanned the surroundings.

The trail led him nearly a mile away to a concrete drainage pit. Connor moved aside the heavy cover and peered down into the darkness, shining his flashlight inside.

A motionless, twisted body. Bloodstained plastic swathed around the head.

“Gavin!”

As distracted as he was, Connor heard the steps behind him. He sprang to the side, avoiding the first attack and ducked under a follow-up haymaker.

Taking the offensive, he moved inside the attacker’s defense and landed a solid punch to the attacker’s sternum. The killer retaliated by grabbing his wrist, but Connor used the grip to pull forward, giving more power to the knee kick he launched in an attempt to cripple the attacker.

The man grunted but did not fall.

The grip on the slender wrist tightened and pulled the android close for a choke hold. “Got you, little lamb.” The whispered threat was horrific in its playfulness.

Connor bucked against the arms holding him; he kicked back but was blocked. In a more controlled effort, he hooked his leg around the attacker’s and, by exerting the powerful actuators, wrenched the man’s shinbone. With a roar of pain the man shoved the android.

Agility kept Connor from falling into the pit’s maw. An awkward handspring launched his body over the opening, landing in a crouch on the far side.

But the attacker was already on him again.

A heavy boot crushed into his face. Connor fell alongside the hole, rolling on his hip to set up the shot he knew he had to make. His hand went for the gun at his back. Gone. He went for his shoulder holster; empty.

“Little lamb has lost the pocket.” The man waved both weapons at the android.

Connor regained his feet slowly, spreading his hands as he preconstructed several trajectories.

The killer rushed the deviant, who had not anticipated the move, and shoulder-bashed him.

In an automated response, Connor grabbed at the man’s arms to avoid falling backward into the pit. His hands were slapped away and the stolen gun cracked against his head.

The killer watched the polymer body hit the bottom of the pit. It thrashed in agony and then stilled. He dragged the concrete lid over the pit, dropping it heavily into place. Stooping, he picked up the android’s dropped flashlight and clicked off the light. He patted the two guns in his pockets. “Seven for the devil, his own self.”

\--

The GPS signal led to the edge of the Urban Farm where Hank, Miller and Chen found the cell’s smashed remains dropped into a small drainage pipe.

“Well, Connor you were right.” Hank said. “But at least we can rule it out.”

No answer.

Connor was gone.

If the android had had a middle and a last name, the entire city would have learned it at that moment.

“D—mnit CONNOR!”

\--

_Androids don’t feel pain. I don’t feel pain. I am damaged. Damage can be fixed. _

Errors scrolling across his processor, Connor opened his eyes.

He rarely saw his own LED except when he chanced a glimpse in a reflective surface. Humans and even some androids had laughed at him for watching his reflection, so he’d stopped and only snuck glances when he was alone.

Sometimes when he was on Hank’s couch in the dark, unable to enter ‘sleep’ mode, he saw the pulsing blue, but sometimes yellow, dancing off the various objects in Hank’s living room. But he’d never seen an entire space filled with the light generated by his LED. And never so much red.

The crimson invaded his optical units and a small whimper escaped him. He didn’t like the red flashing light. He pressed mud and thirium covered hands over his eyes and tried to lower his stress. But he couldn’t, not without dealing with the damage notifications bombarding his vision. He didn’t want to think about himself when Gavin—

Gavin!

Dropping his hands to the ground, Connor pushed himself out of the frozen mud and onto a knee. Errors informed him it was broken and leaking vital fluids as well as reporting the entrance of contaminates into his system. The recommended action was to lock everything down, send a request for help and wait. He locked down the leak and attempted to send a message to Hank, but his communications system informed him it was offline due to damages sustained.

_Sh—t. _

Connor tried to stand, but his leg buckled and he fell heavily. He staggered to his feet, ignoring the blue glow of thirium staining the ground and now the wall where he braced himself.

“Hank!” He shouted. He raised the volume levels on his vocal modulator. “Hank! Help!” His voice echoed, contained by the pit and locked in by the heavy lid. And still the red light filled his eyes.

Silence.

“Hank?” His voice dropped to a whisper as the reality set in that Hank had no idea where he was.

Indignation and contrition waged war in his chest.

_He should have listened to me! I should have stayed with the search party...but Gavin....what was I supposed to do? But it’s okay. Hank will come. _

That thought in mind, Connor scrambled over to Gavin’s motionless body.

The red flickering continued to cover everything in a blood red strobe, providing horrid but effective lighting.

“Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead.” The deviant chanted. “Oh please don’t be—

He rolled Gavin onto his back; the man’s arm was folded up against his body; a hand caught between the bag and his throat, creating a small gap for air.

_Had it been enough? _

Connor tore the plastic apart with strong fingers. The tape sealing Gavin’s mouth was more difficult to remove. Finally, tearing it free, he checked the airway. The android was horrified to find plastic sacks packed into the detective’s mouth. He plucked out the hated things and threw them aside.

A new permanent objective was created in his database: Disassemble unknown assailant.

“Gavin?” Connor pressed two fingers against the detective’s carotid artery. 

A pulse.

His hands hovered over Gavin’s twisted body. He needed to run a scan before he risked any further movements. Connor dismissed more error reports to free up energy and resources to run a body scan.

He activated the scan. Waves of misfired signals and static pain lanced through his processor.

“No, no, no.” He hissed against the shocks traveling through every particle of his body via thirium.

He tried again to gain access to the programs he needed to help Gavin, but the overwhelming chemical-mechanical agony forced him to stop before he sent himself into a shut down.

Panting and overheated from pain and shame, he curled his arms around himself. What was the use of being a state-of-the-art prototype if none of his programs ever worked when he needed them?

Maybe he could just...feel?

He’d done enough scans to know what a normal human body was supposed to look like. Maybe he could tell if anything was damaged if he very carefully just touched...

Connor traced sensitive fingers over Gavin’s neck and back. There didn’t seem to be anything out of place. He next checked Gavin’s chest and abdomen for signs of internal bleeding.

“Okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

The other concern was the cold exposure. Even without access to his scanner, Connor knew the wounded detective’s temperature was too low. Connor pressed his palms together. He was warm. As a machine and a computer, he was always generating heat.

_Okay. I can be useful. I can keep Gavin warm until Hank finds us. _

The android pulled off the detective’s jacket he’d been wearing and got the man’s arms through it and pulled the hood on over his head, mindful of the head wound.

Connor adjusted his internal temperature and slowed his ventilation rate; the heat would draw energy faster and drain his already critically low system, but if he was careful he would have enough for two hours. Surely Hank would find them in the next few minutes.

His temperature regulating shirt and blazer would prevent the additional heat from reaching Gavin. Connor removed his tie and folded it carefully into his pocket before undoing the buttons on his shirt. He had to keep Gavin alive at any cost.

\--


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional warnings in end notes

Current time. 2AM

Connor increased his temperature again and angled the passive human nearer to himself, feeling the beat of the human’s heart echo in his own thrumming chest. Drawn by the heat, Gavin moved lethargically, unconsciously curling closer, hands brushed limply against the smooth synthetic skin of the exposed chest.

At the contact, the body against Connor tensed and the heartbeat sped up. The dark brown head lolled back to stare into the android’s face.

“Fuu—what’s...wh-at the...PHCKIN’ HELL?!”

“Please. Remain calm—

“The f—k!” Gavin tried to shove the android, but his cold-numbed hand slipped against the factory-sculpted chest. Slurred, broken protests continued to fall from cracked, bloody lips.

“Detective Reed, you’re safe now.” Connor’s voice was high with relief. “But you’re hypothermic and need to be warmed. I am generating excess heat for that purpose.”

“S-stop.”

“I’m not—

_Blown pupils. Hyperventilation. Trembling. Incoherent pleas._

Gavin was entering a flashback. Connor cursed. He had been preoccupied with keeping the human from dying of exposure that he had not considered nor prepared for repercussions from the assault itself.

—oh no, Gavin, it’s okay! It’s over now!” He tried belatedly to tether the human’s wounded mind.

He knew he should release Gavin; the belligerent detective hated physical contact—unless he was initiating it through punches, teeth-jarring backslaps, or rough shoulder-checks.

But they were injured and in a dangerous environment. Letting Gavin, injured, work through trauma alone in the cold sounded like a horrible idea.

The android’s damaged systems offered garbled percentages weighing physical, emotional and psychological risks and damages against one another.

Connor made his decision when the detective gagged and clawed his own mouth.

“No, no, please. Don’t hurt yourself.” The android murmured as he swept away Gavin’s hands and pinned them under one arm against his side. “You’re safe. You’re okay, now.” Connor continued the mantra, trying to replace the noises and voices Gavin was hearing.

The detective continued to thrash and protest. “Lemme go!”

A damage warning spiked across Connor’s vision. A leg component gave way and hot thirium steamed in the cold air.

_If he was an android, I could access his memory, perception and judgement modules to repair the replay error and his touch revulsion. Can I help him reset his judgement perceptions of tactile input by providing harmless experiences to balance the ratio of positive to negative tactile experiences?_

Touching Gavin’s traumatized face was out of the question. Instead, Connor tentatively placed his fingertips then his palm on the detective’s back, feeling the muscles jump in alarm.

He waited a moment and then clumsily patted Gavin’s back with a gentle hand. “I’m not hurting you, see? It’s nice. It doesn’t hurt.”

After five minutes and forty-five seconds, Connor had a quiet but tense and trembling human in his arms. Either Gavin had exhausted himself or the reassurances had seeped through.

“You’re alright; you’re okay.” Connor stroked Gavin’s arm as he continued the non-threatening behavior.

“Hell, robot, I’m not a f—in’ dog. Stop petting me.”

Connor looked down and was surprised by the lucid green eyes staring up at him. He offered a lopsided smile. “How are you? Do you know where you are?”

“Ph..ck.. I...dunno...friggin’ urban farm...” The aggravated grumble indicated Gavin was, at least, semi-aware. “Where’m hands?”

“Oh.” Connor released them from under his arm. “Sorry.”

Gavin tucked his hands away under his armpits, balancing his lean weight entirely against Connor’s arms and chest. Either he was arrogant enough to treat the android as a chair provided for his comfort. Or he was unaware that he was being supported by his ‘number one enemy.’

Or he didn’t have enough energy to care either way.

Connor could still feel minute tremors of overstrained muscles.

Gavin muttered unintelligibly as he shifted in an attempt to sit up and view his surroundings. He squinted at the android’s naked chest. “Where’s yer...tie?”

“In my pocket.”

“Where’re yer clothes?”

“Where they always are.” Connor rolled his eyes. “My uniform is designed to regulate my temperature. I’ve only undone my shirt to permit more heat to reach you. What happened?” He asked, changing the subject. “After you left the greenhouse?”

Gavin squeezed his eyes shut against the memory of being dragged, helpless, like a sack of trash into the darkness, away from Ben’s voice. He bottled the memory. “’s’tryin’ to ca-catch murderer, duh.” 

Connor narrowed his eyes and his LED swirled like a vortex, strobing the two in red light. “Your ambition is going to get you killed.”

_No phckin’ comment. _ “The real kill-killer....’s some sorta....”

Connor frowned. “I know. I met him.” 

“S-seems t’go ‘f’ter....” Gavin didn’t finish his observation, gritting his teeth against another series of shudders.

“Anyone who’s out on their own.” Connor finished. “But that doesn’t explain why—

“s-s ‘cause—

Gavin broke off his half of the crime analysis with a shiver and a groan. “Ph-pk...’s c-cold.”

“I know, I know.” Connor increased his temperature again.

Without warning, the sergeant huddled closer and planted his face against the crook of Connor’s neck with the familiarity he’d give a favorite pillow.

The unexpected action caused the android’s processing programs to stutter to a halt.

Connor didn’t know, but the cold made it easy for Gavin to recount his mangled body’s history of broken bones, bullet and knife wounds. At the moment, his entire overstressed body was a collection of old pain and bad memory. Worst of all was his facial scar.

Warmth eased the deep ache. The android was warm. The solution was obvious to the detective’s cold-numbed brain.

Responding to Gavin’s new position, Connor shifted his arms more comfortably and nestled his sergeant’s head under his chin.

“Sto-stop c-cuddlin’ me.” Gavin complained without lifting his face from the warm neck.

“Whatever you say, detective.” Connor stopped moving, but kept his arms secure as his energy levels continued to deplete.

_Please, Hank. Hurry._

The temperature continued to drop by slow degrees as the night...early morning grew colder.

\--

3AM

Gavin, thawed enough to be bored and sore, and therefore irritated and annoying, tapped on the arm wrapped around him; trying to annoy Connor, but after telling the restless human to ‘please stop’ and then ‘knock it off’ the android had gone silent.

With a huff Gavin nestled his now cold hands back into the warm space between himself and Connor’s chest.

That was when Gavin’s sluggish mind noticed the android’s skin. Or, rather, the lack of it. 

He leaned back until he could see Connor’s face. The thinned synthetic skin revealed the silvery tones of the frame beneath. _Sh—t that doesn’t look good. _“Hey, android. Hey. Uh...hey...er...are you uh—

“I’m okay.” Connor blinked several times as he focused his optics on Gavin. He couldn’t identify the expression on the man’s face.

“Wasn’t gonna ask that!”

Instead of commenting on Gavin’s emotional display, Connor murmured. “Oh. S-sorry.”

“Wassa matter with your skin? An’ don’t say it’s nothin’. Obviously, somethin’s wrong.”

There was no sense in denying it.

_But I can delay it. _Connor thought. _He doesn’t need time for false hope._

Impatient, Gavin bumped Connor’s chin with the top of his head. “Hey, I asked you a question!”

“I’m running....low on....energy.”

“From jus’ sittin’ there? Pft. I gotta tablet that does that. Plug the friggin’ thing in, poof, end of day? Dead.”

Miffed at the comparison, Connor snapped, “It’s from keeping you warm!” But he regretted the outburst the moment it escaped.

“You deaf? It’s a ta-blet.” Gavin freed his hands from where they were pinned between himself and Connor’s warm chest to form hand-parentheses around the imaginary portions of the word.

The emphasis accomplished, his hands snaked back to the warmth. “It doesn’t keep me...oh, wait,” He looked up and his eyes narrowed at the half-smile on Connor’s face. “Pfft...so that takes energy?”

Connor let his eyes drift shut. _Oh, Gavin. The cold really does hinder humans’ ability to think. _“That is...correct.”

“Is it dangerous? Low power?”

“No.” _Not usually._

“Don’t lie.” Gavin’s eyes were still narrowed.

“...not much.”

“What happens if you uh...run outta power?”

“I’ll shut down.”

“Fer how long?”

“Permanently.” Connor whispered.

Gavin started backwards. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait...f—in’ WHAT? You’re killin’ yourself?! To keep me f—in’ warm?! Nobody told you to do THAT!”

“…androids…don’t die...humans do.”

“I’m not made of f—kin’ glass! I can take a little hypo—phcking—thermia!”

“...you shouldn’t...have to suffer...”

Gavin wrestled free from Connor’s weakened hold and staggered to his feet. He pointed at the android. “Don’t!”

_Even if I did take orders from you, no android would obey that vague of a command. _

The sergeant put too much weight on his bad leg. He swore and added the pain as fuel for his outrage. “Don’t pretend like you don’t f—in’ know the hell I’m talkin’ ‘bout! You stop doin’ ‘ever is yer doin’!”

Connor forced himself to speak clearly despite the falling energy levels. “Listen—

“I’m not.” Gavin’s voice was thick. “I don’t. I won’t. I can’t understand anyhow. ‘m an idiot.” He swore and pressed a shaking hand to his face. “I mean—

“You won’t survive at these temperatures without supplemental heat.” Connor tried to explain.

“Phck you.” Gavin was searching through his jacket pockets, dropping several smaller items on the ground in his hurry. “I don’t gotta take this...fr’m piece of plastic.”

Connor narrowed his eyes. “What are you—

He heard a metallic ‘snick’ and saw a steel blade in the red light. “Gavin.” Connor warned as he tried to stand, but was too weak. “What are you doing?” He demanded.

Pressed against the far wall to stay out of the android’s reach, Gavin pulled back his sleeve. “Slittin’ my own f—kin’ wrists!”

“Stop that!”

“You stop first!” Gavin’s shaking hand drew a long red scratch over his wrist. “I ain’t bluffin’ Connor!”

_D—mmit Gavin. _“Okay, okay, alright!” Connor forced his temperature back down to normal levels. “I stopped. Just put the knife away.”

Doubtful, the human shuffled over and checked Connor’s temperature with the back of his hand. “Now do that repair thing.”

“I do not have enough resources remain—

“Idiot.” Gavin slouched down onto the ground; the warmth he’d gained oozed away into the cold red air. He pocketed the knife.

Connor’s blurring vision followed it, noting its placement in the left pocket. “Let me see your wrist.”

“It’s fine. Just a f—in’ scratch.” Gavin huffed, crossing his arms. “Now we’re like real two humans. Just have to hang on until the others find us, got that? Anderson’s not that dumb; probably gonna find us in the next five minutes.”

“...not human.”

“I give you a pep talk and that’s your takeaway? That’s why I don’t do nice things. Everyone’s a f—in’ ingrate. ‘ey, let’s make a bet on how long it takes Anderson to find us.”

_I have to tell him. _Connor thought.

“An’ if anyone thinks I’m doin’ any paperwork on this, they gotta think again. One report, that’s it.” Gavin poked Connor in the shoulder, “You can do all that sh—t.”

_I have to explain. Make him understand this isn’t his fault._

Connor looked away; the red LED shone full in green eyes. “I can’t ‘hang on’.”

“What.” Gavin squinted and covered the LED with a thumb, plunging them into darkness.

Connor batted away the detective’s hand and looked the man in the eye. “You said we ‘just have to hang on’.”

“Yeah, so?”

“I cannot. I know exactly how long it will take to run out of power. And...and when the countdown timer hits zero...I don’t want you to be alarmed.”

“What?” Gavin blinked. “Why would I—

“Once my core processor goes offline, the autonomous systems will cease,” Connor hurried through the explanation, keeping his voice as emotionless as possible, “leading to a drop in internal temperatures. Residual liquid will freeze and expand, breaking apart my biocomponents and my processor.”

“Your BRAIN’S gonna explode?!” Gavin’s voice hit a high note as he jumped up. “F—k that. Turn off the countdown.” He ordered. His voice deepened. “I’m not dealin’ with that sh—t. Turn. It. Off.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” Connor struggled to speak. His ventilation components tightened as thirium ceased to flow through them. “Humans can...push their limits. Androids...cannot. Physics and programming.”

“Phck physics. And phck programming. I’m the sergeant.” Gavin jabbed the android in the chest with two fingers. “And I say turn off the countdown. Turn it off. Make it stop. How do you make it stop? You got like a...I dunno....a d—mn pause button or somethin’?”

Connor sighed and pushed away Gavin’s hand. “No...I don’t have a...pause. I need...component fluids and thirium.”

“Don’t ‘ave that. Ask for somethin’ else.” Gavin was pacing now, limping in a tight spiral, stepping over Connor’s outstretched legs with each pass.

“There is nothing else.” The android kept his tone patient despite being forced by human illogic to explain the causes of his own approaching termination. “It’s like blood loss. You can understand that.”

Gavin stopped and scowled down at the seated android. “Pfft. I’ve never died of blood loss.”

“Because kindhearted and selfless humans donate blood—

“Because I’m not a friggin’ wimp like you! You don’t just give up!”

“You can’t stop a machine’s shutdown by force of will!”

“Watch me.” Gavin growled, knuckling his eyes as he tried to think straight. “Holy phckin’ hell...I got it...hang on...”

“I just told you—

“Shut up, shut up,” Gavin went through his pockets again, searching through the random crap he’d picked up over the course of the day. He knew he’d found—

_YES!_

Connor’s sight darkened with monochrome static. “Gavin? Are you still there?” The increased errors obscured his vision.

A small round object with a strap was pressed into his hands. Connor’s most basic sensors reported its make and model.

“A watch? I...have my own countdown—

“No, stupid. It’s to count UP the minutes.” Gavin winced as he half-crouched, half-knelt at the android’s side. “Like er....addition...you add them...You know. Add minutes to your minutes.”

_Gavin, you illogical idiot. _“I don’t...I can’t... the countdown...120 seconds.” Connor’s breath came faster as he tried to both explain and face the end like a detective should.

Brave. Like Gavin. Nonchalant. Like Hank.

_If only Gavin would stop yammering nonsense. _

“Shut up! And friggin’ COUNT UP! That’s an ORDER! What the hell is your problem? Why’re you being so pathetic?!”

The words seared the young android who was desperately trying to be brave.

“I’m SCARED!”

The confession silenced Gavin. _Ah, hell, now he’s crying. _Gavin’s mind folded in on itself as he tried to resolve the situation he’d caused._ Okay, okay, okay, uh....phck...how do normal people....uh..._

Gavin’s expressive hands fluttered while he wracked his brain. Normally, by this point someone would come swear at him and shove him away.

Or he’d walk away.

_Welp, can’t walk away from this one, Gavin. Okay. I can figure this out. I can figure it out. _

Connor’s voice wavered between several pitches as he tried to answer Gavin’s thoughtless and cruel question. “I’m. I’m scared f-for Hank and you and, and...I-I...don’t want to shut down and-and leave you all-a-alone.”

_Er...d—mmit.....uh...phck...ah...helllll..._

The android’s tiny sobs did not have enough power to form even an echo in the enclosed space. “I w-want. I want t-to go...home.”

“Ah, hell, kid. You will.” A coarse hand clumsily swiped over the android’s white cheeks, brushing away the liquid spilling down them. “Alls you gotta do is say ‘one’ when the minute passes. Got that? You’re gonna count up, okay?”

Connor’s countdown timer reached 00:00:10

Systems began shutting down. 

His skin melted away, reabsorbed for its energy.

Gavin had been stepping on his foot for the past few minutes. Connor couldn’t feel the weight now.

The loss of sensation continued as emergency programming shut down thirium lines to allow the substance to collect with more efficiency around his CPU and regulator—exactly how it was designed, using percentages, protocols, variables, and if/then conditions to calculate the moment of shut down.

Everything functioned as it had been coded.

He knew. He knew his operating system. He knew his limits.

He knew—as well as he knew the chemical formula for thirium—when the timer hit 00:00:00, he would die and be nothing.

00:00:05

His depleted thirium slowed in its lines; biocomponents became ridged and cold; data was a mere echo in his processor.

00:00:02

But the watch pressed between his hands, the hot pulse throbbing in Gavin’s hands over his own—told him that he would live.

00:00:00

“Yer more’n a machine, Connor. Don’t you know that?”

The LED went dark.

Gavin did not loosen his grip.

“...one...” The voice was static filled and weak, but it was Connor’s.

The sergeant tightened his grip and rubbed his fingers over cold, fisted hands as the android continued to read off each passing minute in the dark.

After hearing Connor count ‘four’, Gavin moved to sit alongside him, but kept the hands clasped in his own.

Gavin slumped against the wall, too cold and too tired to care about the cold and exhaustion. He leaned his head back and stared at the dark emptiness. 

_Like me._

He had clawed through mental and emotional layers of scarred skin and barriers of knitted bone, searching for whatever human feelings Connor needed from him.

He’d found nothing.

So Gavin pretended. He had held the android’s hands and dropped the harsh and practiced guards he placed on his idiot voice, let his accent bleed through in its natural tones and said some crap.

Connor didn’t need to know there was no real feeling behind it. 

But.

It had been......not entirely horrible...

...to pretend...

...for a minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Warnings for chapter 6:  
Threatened suicide attempt


	7. Chapter 7

The heavy cover over the pit scraped back and a bright light shone down into the hole. Sound from the outside world poured in.

“Holy sh—t! F—k! They’re here!”

\--

A short time earlier.

\--

As soon as he’d realized Connor disobeyed and then refused or was unable to communicate, Hank proceeded to thoroughly take advantage of his authority as lieutenant.

A sea of flashing lights and the methodical sweep of search lights illuminated the farm’s four corners as Hank pulled it into splinters.

Four greenhouses, an office building, and several sheds had been gutted in the rampage for his missing partner.

“Lieutenant—

Chris grimaced when Hank swung the sledgehammer back again and smashed the lock off a small shed. The lieutenant ripped the door open, tearing the flimsy metal door off its rusted hinges and letting it fall to the ground with a reverberating clang.

“Connor!” There was a loud growl, sounds of glass shattering, and heavy thuds as shelving and tools were knocked over.

Hank strode out, hammer over his shoulder. “What Chris?”

“I was thinking, well, what if they’re not here anymore? Like, maybe they were taken off site?”

“Why do you think I have five units conducting a door-to-door over a three block radius?” Hank snarled and headed for the next building.

Similar sounds of enthusiastic demolition came from other search parties.

The old police helicopter—finally freed from the car chase—roared low overhead; sending up clouds of rubbish and dead plants and chased away all shadows.

\--

Current time.

\--

The rescue team pulled Connor from the pit.

Hank didn’t need synthetic skin and hair to recognize his partner. He covered his mouth, biting the fabric of his glove to keep from crying out at the sight of the dark LED. Twice he’d trusted the universe would turn a blind eye to his...happiness. Twice his audacity had been punished.

The technician hesitated when she saw the blank LED, but the firefighter holding the pearl white android called out, “No, get over here! He’s alive!”

Brow furrowed, the technician waved toward the repair gurney she’d set up after being told to prepare for an RK-800 model. “What? Is it residual?” It was impossible for any inanimate object to retain heat for long in this cold.

The firefighter set the android down on the gurney and assisted the technician to attach the various lines and cables necessary for android stabilization. “I dunno about that, but the pump is working.”

Within seconds Connor was hooked up to a portable diagnostics machine and life-saving fluids began flowing into him.

“I don’t believe it.” The technician said. “I don’t believe it.” 

Hank staggered over to lean against the table, staring down at the lifeless features. “He’s, he’s alive?”

“Yeah.” The technician set up additional transfusions of thirium and fluids. She included tracers in the fluids so her repair system could more rapidly locate damage.

Watching the readouts on the monitor, she applied emergency sealant to the worst damage. “Showing strong CPU activity, steady pulses in the thirium pump regulator and a weak but steady thirium pump. He’s gonna be fine.” The technician said to Hank. “He’s gonna be fine. I don’t know how, but he’s okay.”

Hank didn’t know why the woman kept repeating herself until a fireman stepped forward and gently pulled the grey-haired man away so the android could be loaded into the ambulance and transported.

\--

While Hank was learning of Connor’s survival, the rescuers dealt with the hellhole’s other denizen.

“Easy, easy. Man, take it easy!” A fireman’s voice echoed from down in the pit.

“Nawa man, Imma....serg-ANT!”

“Gavin.” Chris said feeling his lips twitch.

The fireman called to his people up top. “Get a backboard down here. No, YOU stay put! Stay! I said take it easy, mister! Do you WANT to be tranquilized?”

“Phck you—

Chen’s stoic face almost fissured.

“Ok, that’s it.” The fireman’s exasperation was clear in his voice.

An indignant squawk echoed from the hole. Strapped to a backboard and bundled in blankets, Gavin was hoisted out. Once he was set down, he freed one arm to point at Hank across the way. “Phckin’ ANDERSON! How senile are you? How hard is it to find TWO detectives?! We nearly died in there!”

Hank ignored him. He could barely hear the man’s accusations over the sound of his own self-blame.

Wriggling free of the restraints with practiced ease, Gavin proclaimed his ‘fineness’ to the attending medic while leaning on the sturdy firefighter who’d placed a thermal blanket around the detective’s trembling shoulders.

“Told you,” Gavin flinched as feeling gradually returned to his limbs including a throbbing leg, “I’m...”

The medic stood back with a frown. “Feelin’ it now, huh? That ankle looks pretty swollen.”

“Shu’ell up.”

“Gavin.” Ben had been watching on the sidelines, but now he stepped up. “It’s only going to start feeling worse. Just load up and go with them.”

“You don’t get to tell me what t’do.” Gavin shrugged off the hands on his shoulders. “And you people! Stop that!” With another jerk away from those trying to keep him on his feet, Gavin hobbled to the front passenger side of the ambulance cursing all and sundry. “See? Happy now? I’m gettin’ in the phckin’ thing!”

Pincer like, Chris and Chen intercepted him.

“Hey, sergeant.” Chris said. “Wanna come with us?” He offered his shoulder, but made no move to control Gavin’s movements—like Connor, Chris was observant of his superior officer’s...quirks.

“Hey youse.” Gavin threw his arms around both cops and leaned on them. “We goin’ fer drinks?”

Necks breaking and backs straining, the patrol cops shared a glance.

“Maybe later.” Chris said. Gavin treated patrol cops a little better these days, but he was still quick to make his claws felt the moment the mood took him...or at least as long as it took him to count to ten.

Listening to Gavin’s rambling about various bars and how some were ‘phckin’ ‘mazin’,’ they rerouted the sergeant around the ambulance’s front and to the more traditional patient seating in the back. As they approached the double doors, Gavin dug in his heels.

“Don’wanna...” Gavin slurred, but in the next moment an increased weight on their shoulders told Chris and Chen that the stubborn detective had finally lost the battle with consciousness.

The medic who’d been shadowing them with a watchful eye stepped up and supervised as the two cops maneuvered the sergeant into the ambulance.

“Is he,” Chris asked, “He gonna be okay?”

The medic glowered at the problem patient even as he began setting up an IV. “We’ll treat him for hypothermia and a few injuries—that ankle looks pretty bad, but yeah,” he said, tucking the blanket’s edge more securely around Gavin’s shoulders. “He’s going to be okay. Whatever they did to keep each other alive down there, it worked.”


	8. Chapter 8

The newly constructed hospital provided care to both androids and humans. In theory, it was a powerful symbol of the continual unity between androids and humans, but in reality it was a problem from the start.

Groups of humans protested the addition of ‘repair garages’ to a ‘place of healing.’ Gordon Penwick, the anti-android preacher, was especially outraged by the dual purpose building and incited more than one riot over it.

But with a strong DPD presence, the protests quieted to a grumble and the hospital flourished. The hospital proved its dedication to being more than a statement piece by its willingness to stand its ground in the face of several arson attempts and the murder of a dozen androids, several technicians, a doctor and the violent harassment of more than one nurse walking home after a late shift.

The hospital’s human element’s steadfastness in protecting its android patients and staff in the face of violence, more than any news propaganda, led to its endorsement by Jericho—who generally encouraged androids to seek repair work only from fellow androids.

That history of trust was also why Hank preferred Connor to have any extensive repair work done there. And since Connor’s admittance late that morning, Hank hardly left the kid’s side despite the android being kept in repair stasis the entire time.

Aside from Captain Fowler’s orders for a protection detail—Gavin had loudly let everyone know about the existence of the second accomplice—Hank wanted to be present when Connor came out of stasis. It seemed an age since he’d last heard the kid’s voice.

But when the technician gave an estimated time of ‘thirty minutes,’ Hank realized that several important and time-sensitive reports needed to be filed back at the station.

The lieutenant rounded up a spare patrol cop to take over security duties and fled the hospital. As he drove to the station, he remembered several other errands and chores that needed doing.

Sumo did need to eat, after all.

Might as well take out the trash and check the mail and pay a bill, and do some shopping.

\--

At the station, Hank sat down at his desk and stared at the empty chair where Connor should be working. The emptiness stabbed at him. 

_What am I doing? _He stood up, not caring if he looked like a mad man to anyone bothering to watch the old lieutenant dash around the bullpen like a panicked rookie. _I should be with him._

Paperwork at Central Station had never been finished so quickly, except, maybe, by Connor himself.

Hank asked a neighbor to tend to Sumo. Everything else could wait.

\--

Upon his return to the hospital, Hank expected to find Connor in the android recovery wing, but he was told by the receptionist that “RK800-Connor has been moved to the human recovery floor.”

The receptionist’s guardedly polite expression gave Hank an unpleasant feeling in his chest. “Why was he moved?” He leaned on the countertop.

The receptionist gripped a battered little stress ball tighter in one hand. “Because he and Mr—Detective Sergeant Reed,” she spoke the man’s full title between smiling teeth, “were abusing the inter room com system. Now that they’re sharing a room, they may speak to each other without creating feedback in the com system.”

\--

Hank saw Ben sitting in a chair outside the recovery room’s door reading on his phone and periodically itching his head with a TV remote held in his other hand.

“Hey Ben,” Hank greeted, pointing at the door, “front desk said they moved Connor? Some sh—t about Reed making a commotion.”

“Both of them were. Yeah. But,” Ben dropped his phone into his shirt pocket. “It didn’t settle them down.”

Hank shrugged and waved his hand. “Why would it? If they’re annoying each other, they’d be better off apart.”

Ben pointed the remote at Hank. “Yeah, I know, right? But after the hospital cut off their access to the intercom, those two knuckleheads escaped their rooms and ended up having a knockdown drag out fight in the middle of the maternity ward. Believe me, Hank,” he said, “They are better off contained together.”

_How is it possible both to want to be in a place and yet want to be miles away from it? _Reluctant to move any closer to the room, Hank stalled and asked, “What’s with the remote?”

“Hank, I am a genius babysitter.” Ben held the device above his head in exaggerated triumph. “I took it from Gavin because he was annoying Connor. But then your charming partner was ‘hacking’ the TV to annoy Gavin with children’s sing-alongs so I unplugged that. Five minutes later? They’re fast asleep.”

“Couldn’t you have just unplugged the TV?” Hank wondered. “Why bother with the remote?”

“Gavin was irritating Connor by pretending to control him with it.” Ben waved a hand. “Had nothing to do with the TV.”

With an eyeroll, Hank finally went to the doorway and peered inside, ignoring Ben’s soft ‘they’re fine.’

_I’m not worried, Ben. I’m just...checking. That’s all. _

The room was filled with the sound of Reed’s soft breathing and the whirr of Connor’s self-repair program as it made fine-tuned adjustments to the skilled technician’s repair work.

Reed, who couldn’t seem to get the hang of chairs, or furniture in general, was slouched sideways in a large armchair, legs draped over its arm. A set of orange earbuds dangled from one hand and his head was tucked against the backrest with his new phone, muted, propped up alongside him, playing some ancient movie of an enormous green rubber lizard chasing a screaming blonde.

The regular, if strained, breathing—he’d ended up being treated for a respiratory infection—told Hank the younger cop was asleep. He was fully dressed except for shoes. A pair of worn sneakers were tucked within easy reach under the chair.

_Ready to run off. _Hank glared, feeling old animosity swell in his chest. Reed’s relationship with his colleagues was better. Hank was willing to admit that, but deep wounds heal slowly and Reed was in no hurry to aid in that healing. _Swaggers around as if he doesn’t owe anyone anything. Treats Connor like f—ing garbage and complains like a spoiled child if he has to work with anyone. He’s a hazard. Nearly got Connor killed._

Connor...Hank turned his attention to his partner and blinked at the sight.

A sheet draped over his head, the android was curled up in Reed’s assigned bed. His LED blinked blue through the paper thin sheet as he processed repairs and residual data.

Ben came up behind the lieutenant. “See?” He whispered. “They’re fine.”

Hank’s brow furrowed and his voice was a harsh whisper between gritted teeth. “He almost died. I should’ve been with him; shouldn’t have trusted Reed—

“Whoa.” Ben yanked the lieutenant away and back into the hall, hushing him. “Don’t throw blame until you read the final report.”

“It’s just gonna read the same way it always does. ‘I did sh—t. The hell with everyone else.’”

“Gavin has more bad moments than good, but—

“But nothing, Ben! He left Connor and the victim alone so he could claim credit for arresting the kidnapper! He endangered himself and then pulled Connor in with him. What if Connor had—

“What happened, happened.” Ben whispered. “Don’t worry about the ‘what ifs.’ Be grateful for the ‘now haves’.”

“…Yeah. Thanks, Ben-Hallmark Moment-Collins.” Hank crossed his arms and stared down the older man. “Don’t partner them up again, Ben. Ever.”

“Hank—

“That’s an order. I’m done giving Connor special treatment. If he’s gonna pull this sh—t and disobey orders, then he’s gonna f—ing face the consequences. I don’t want him to move more than five f—ing feet without a supervising officer—NOT REED—for the next two months.”

“Don’t do that, Hank. Don’t lash out.”

“I can’t afford to play favorites—

“I’m serious, Hank.” Ben’s face was earnest as he placed a hand on the irate lieutenant’s arm. “Don’t push Connor away because of some conflict of interest crap.” He tightened his grip. “You’ll regret it.”

“This has nothing to do with that.”

“You got scared, Hank. Don’t punish him for that.”

Hank shook his head. “It’s not that simple, Ben. One minute he’ll be playing with Sumo, rolling on the floor like…like….”

“A child.” Ben chose his words carefully and spoke with even greater care.

“Then the next, he’s throwing himself headfirst into firefights and demanding to be treated like a grown man…android…I don’t know!” Hank waved his hands, wanting to strike something. “He switches so easily, but I’m…I...This morning. When he went missing—I didn’t know whether I’d lost a subordinate, my partner, or—

He broke off unable or unwilling to finish.

“Your relationship with Connor isn’t a mystery that needs to be solved.”

“Sure feels like it.” Hank scratched at his beard and then dropped his hand with a sigh. “Sorry to be pouring all this sh—t on you, Ben.”

“It’s a fair trade.” Ben chuckled and shuffled away. “You get to deal with them when they wake up with more energy. I’ll see you around, Hank, call if you need a break and I’ll send Chris.”

“Hey, Ben?” Hank called after the departing officer.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. You know. For. Well, thanks.”

“Anytime. Anytime.”

Once Ben was gone, Hank reentered the room. A muttered curse from the man in the chair drew Hank’s attention, but Reed was asleep despite his restlessness.

Or was he? A glim of green peered out from half-open eyes. Hank frowned and strode over, walking as much on tip-toe as he could get his large form to do so.

A heavy sigh escaped the sergeant. “Ben?” Gavin mumbled the name as he shifted and partially sat up on one elbow.

Hank froze. “No, hush.”

“An’son?” Still half-asleep, Reed muttered, “T’hell you doin’ here?”

“Checkin’ on Connor. Now shh.”

“Do I f—in’ look like your friggin’ overpriced toaster?”

The recovering android under the sheet mumbled, “Don’t c’m that...”

“Shut your f—ing mouth, Reed.” Hank hissed with a glance over his shoulder at his android partner.

With a petulant huff, Reed slouched down and rammed his earbuds back in and glared at the screaming blonde on his phone.

Resisting the urge to slap the man upside the head, Hank stepped over to where Connor was resting.

He plucked the sheet from Connor’s head and folded it down around the android’s narrow shoulders. Connor shifted when he detected the room’s air currents over his new and still sensitive skin and curled his fists further under his chin with a displeased hum.

Hank didn’t want to wake the light sleeper, but his hand lingered near the deviant’s cheek for a moment.

_No._

With a final glance at Gavin, now curled impossibly tight in the large chair with his back to the room, Hank left.

But he paused on the threshold and his fingers dug into the doorframe for a moment; then, he stepped out of the room. He closed the door with a deliberate pull.

But he let the door latch catch with a quiet click.

\--

The police lieutenant sat in the uncomfortable hallway chair and stared at the bizarre painting on the wall across from him. It was either a giraffe or an elephant with eyes on the end of its trunk. He supposed it could be a skyscraper.

The recovery ward was soundproofed and cozy with its carpeting, plants, and pictures—with the exception of the few odd prints, but it was lined with sensors so that doctors, nurses and staff could be alerted to any change in a patient’s vitals.

The result was a silence like that of a photographer before they snap a final photo—expectant and watchful. At least in the interrogation rooms, he knew where the eyes were.

How many people were watching him right now and judging him for his cowardice?

_They don’t know. _He told himself. _All they see is a cranky old cop assigned to protection duty. They don’t see the father of a dead son. _

Hank growled at the painting. _Connor is just a work partner. _

_He’s more than that. _The thought plucked at his worn heartstrings.

Hank yanked his heartstrings away from the irritating thought, folded them up and stuck them high on a shelf—like old Christmas decorations at the end of the season, to be forgotten and then thrown out when they were made worthless with dust and mildew.

He did not want to deal with the confusion. It was the wrong time. _The kid is okay. That’s what’s important._ He told himself. _I’ll...figure it out....later. There’s time. There’s plenty of time._

He looked down at the floor and realized that at some point he’d stood up and been pacing up and down the hall. And stopped in front of the door to Connor’s recovery room.

With an unsteady hand, and condemning himself for his weakness, he turned the knob and opened the door a crack...one inch...two inches. A narrow line of light fell across the resting android, his eyes scrunched and a hand came up to block the light, but he did not wake.

Hank returned to his seat in the hall and listened to the soft hum of Connor’s system repair.

_We have time._

‘SLAM!’

Hank leapt in his seat when the recovery room door slammed shut with enough force to rattle the abstract paintings on the wall.

“Is it that hard to CLOSE a door?!”

“Wha-zaa hell?” Gavin’s sleep slurred voice grew more irritated with each syllable. “D—mn plastic—OW! Wha’re ya throwin’ crap at me fer?!”

“Because you threw it at me first!”

“Like a phckin’ hour ago!”

Hank swung the door back open, flooding the room with light. He stood there in the doorway while the two recovering patients—Gavin from where he sprawled in the chair about to hurl back a plastic food tray and Connor standing on the bed, arms crossed and chin jutted out defiantly—blinked owlishly at the broad-shouldered silhouette glowering at them.

Hank pointed at Connor. “Repair stasis, now.”

The android flopped back flat onto the bed with such speed, for a moment Hank was afraid the kid would hurt himself. Red LED’d, the android petulantly crossed his arms over his chest, not caring the sheets were tangled around his feet in a way that had to be uncomfortable.

Holding back a sigh, Hank strode over and sorted out the sheets so they lay more comfortably over the android. His hand lingered on Connor’s shoulder as he finished. “I know it’s boring here, but you need to take the time to fully repair your systems.”

“Why can’t I do that at...at the house?”

“Because these people know more about androids than I do and can help you if anything goes wrong during the repair stasis.”

“Nothin’ gonna happen.” Connor muttered. His LED had flashed a stubborn yellow while Hank adjusted the sheets.

“Humor an old man, okay?” Hank offered a smile.

Connor returned it shyly and quickly rolled over to hide his face in the pillows. “I still don’t like it here.” He grumbled half-heartedly, but his LED was a steady blue now.

“We’ll go home soon.” Hank said.

The android rolled back to face Hank. “We will?” Connor’s small smile didn’t hurt the human's heart as much as it usually did.

“Yeah, kid. We will. Now, repair stasis.”

Connor’s eyes closed and with a little sigh, the repair whir started up again.

Still perplexed by Connor’s odd reaction to his promise of going back to the house, Hank turned to check that Reed wasn’t about to do something to disturb Connor again. Maybe give the man a few warnings about his behavior...but...

The chair was empty; the shoes gone.

_Ran off, huh? Figures._

Hank shook his head and took over the chair. It was more comfortable than the one in the hall anyhow.

**Author's Note:**

> Working on the next few chapters of HDR, but sharing this in the meantime  
Update: making good progress on HDR


End file.
